Don't Talk Out Loud
by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle
Summary: Cute and funny One-shot. If only silly old Anderson had listened to Sherlock the first time the detective gave him that advice...From Sally Donovan's POV.


**Don't Talk Out Loud**

Sergeant Sally Donovan was _not _a morning person. Never had been and never would be. This fact especially held true when she had gotten little to no sleep on the previous night. This was the case on this fair September morning. Practically all of Scotland Yard had been working on this serial killer case for two months. Last night, Sherlock Holmes had finally put all of the pieces together and, with the help of Dr. John Watson, discovered the killer's hideout. They and the Yard had made a raid on the place and arrested the bastard, who was now shivering in a tiny, dark cell as he should be. But the work of the New Yard was far from over; recovered bodies were still being identified and autopsied, as well as the killer's found belongings examined and processed for evidence at the upcoming trial to nail him.

To save time, Sally had crashed on a bunk in the Yard for a few hours before getting up and finishing her long shift, her three cups of coffee the only thing still keeping her on her feet. By ten o'clock, Sally was counting the seconds until noon, when her shift would end and she could go home and crash for one blessedly work-free weekend. But she kept her mouth shut and went on with her work, knowing that complaining would be useless and working would make time go a bit faster.

As she was typing up a report, the double doors to the New Yard opened, and in came John Watson. He put two fingers in his mouth and gave a loud, commanding whistle – Sally figured he must have gotten that in his army days – causing everyone to look at him in annoyance. John held up his hands in apology and spoke in a voice so all could hear him.

"Hey, guys, sorry to disturb you all, but please listen. Sherlock is on his way up now to give Lestrade his official statement." Sally wasn't the only one who groaned at that, but John shushed them again and continued. "I know, I'm sorry, but please bear with me. He's got Alethea with him, since Molly is working. She's four months old, and is recovering from a double ear infection; Sherlock's only just managed to put her to sleep. So please, if you value your limbs and don't want to be thrown out the window, _keep your voices down._" He then headed into Lestrade's office.

Thankfully, everyone listened to John and immediately nodded their consent, returning to work with lips sealed shut, including Sally. They all knew what a tantrum Sherlock could throw when he was annoyed, so none of them were eager to learn just how loud his baby daughter would scream if she were disturbed in such a state.

A minute later, the doors opened again and in walked the consulting detective. He pushed an unadorned pram in front of him, the top of which was up and covering the occupant completely. On his face was a glare aimed at everybody he passed that promised hell to anybody who made a peep. Nobody was about to defy that glare. When it landed on Sally, she held up her hands in a peace offering and visibly pressed her lips tighter together.

Once Sherlock and the pram were inside Lestrade's office with the door shut, everybody relaxed a bit and resumed their work, though still keeping the volume down. Sally wasn't surprised when Gina, another officer and friend on the job, immediately went up to Molly and began speaking in a low voice. "Well, he's never brought her here before."

"He probably wouldn't trust anybody outside his incredibly small circle to look after her," replied Sally, who turned back to he report. "His landlady must be out."

"Have you ever seen the baby before?"

Sally looked at her slightly nosy but truly good friend and gave her a look. "You know I would have told you if I had! Greg has, though. Says she's the spitting image of her mother, but with Sherlock's head of hair."

Gina cooed, "Oh, how _adorable_! Hope we catch a glimpse before they go. But a double ear infection, poor thing…I remember having one when I was in Uni, but a double one at that age!"

Sally gave a sympathetic groan and resumed typing, waiting for Gina to continue the discussion. Sure enough, she did ten seconds later.

"I still can't quite believe it, can you?"

Sally turned back to her friend, knowing full well what she meant. "Of course not. For a long time I thought he would be the next great psychopath, sure that he would tire of just solving crimes and move on to causing them. But I think we've all learned that his pathologist was not one to be underestimated."

Gina giggled and nodded. "It's always the quiet ones…" she said.

Sally chuckled. "I do like the name they choose for the baby: Alethea. It's lovely."

"Yeah, and it's unique, like his name. That's probably what they were going for." Gina looked at her nearby desk and sighed. "Well, back to the grind. Wanna grab a celebratory drink at Finnigan's tonight?"

"If I'm awake, I'll meet you there at nine," replied Sally, and Gina pumped her fists before walking back to her desk. Sally grinned and let her thoughts wander further on the subject as she typed her report.

When Sherlock Holmes had come back from the dead, everyone had been surprised but not truly shocked. If anybody could have pulled off a stunt like that in this day and age, it would be Sherlock Holmes. Sally would never admit it, but his return had brought back both relief at getting their best weapon back, and guilt for having doubted him. But the true shock had come a year after his return: when Sherlock Holmes had married his pathologist, Molly Hooper. The man whom everyone thought had no heart had actually given it to another person, something that none of them, especially Sally, thought him capable of. Then again, no one had ever thought he would ever be a father, either.

Suddenly, Sally's line of thought was broken when the doors to the New Yard were opened, and in came her ex looking _very _smug indeed. "Good news, people!" he said to the room in a boisterous voice. Everyone immediately tensed at the loud volume. "Found the sick prick's journal which catalogued his movements meticulously for the past ten years!"

"Anderson, wait!" Sally called in a hushed voice, rushing to him when she saw he was heading straight for Lestrade's office. "Keep your damn voice down. Sherlock's in there with him, and he brought –"

"Oh, great, the freak," said Anderson, looking positively annoyed and rolling his eyes. "Well, too bad for him, _I _found this one, and he's _not _going to steal my thunder."

And with that, Anderson opened the door to Lestrade's office and went in. Everybody in the New Yard stared in horror at the door, and could hear Anderson's muffled boasting in a loud voice. None of them could move, terrified of what was going to happen next and praying that it wouldn't.

But it did.

Five seconds after Anderson had gone into the room, another sound drowned out and stopped his boasting: a baby's cries. Everybody groaned, either in sympathy for the baby or in annoyance at Anderson. Sally slapped her forehead with her palm, grimacing. _Why must my ex be such a bloody idiot?_

However, the employees of the New Yard were not left much time to groan; in the next moment, Lestrade's office door burst open and two figures stormed out. Well, only one stormed out while the other was dragged. Sherlock Holmes, with an expression on his face that was absolutely murderous, was dragging Anderson, squealing in pain and guilt, along – _by the ear_ – towards the New Yard entrance. No one dared interfere or stop the detective, not while everybody could still hear Alethea crying.

No sooner had the two exited through the double doors than Sherlock's enraged voice, muted by the closed doors but still audible, could be heard: _"How many times must I tell you, Anderson: DON'T – TALK – OUT – LOUD!"_

In the next minute, Sherlock burst through the double doors and ran back to Lestrade's office at top speed – the baby's cries had not ceased – managing to softly shut the door behind him. In the tense moments that followed, while the New Yard employees waited with baited breath, Alethea's cries slowed, calmed, and finally stopped. Everyone exhaled in relief and returned to work.

Gina got up from her desk and hurried to Sally. "Oh, my _God!_" she breathed with wide eyes.

"Well…" said Sally, running a hand through her wild curls. "I'm certainly wide awake _now._"

One of the double doors of the New Yard entrance opened, and everyone turned to watch Anderson come back in. He was hunched over, groaning and wincing, rubbing his left ear. Sally and Gina looked at each other and burst into hushed but hysterical giggles.

Some minutes later, the door to Lestrade's office opened again, and John came out. Anderson immediately retreated to a corner like a frightened animal. He was now wheeling the baby pram, and held a finger to his lips. Everyone immediately became silence, and shared in the amused smile the good doctor wore. Though the pram was still covered, when Sherlock followed after him, everyone could see that it was now empty.

Sherlock Holmes was holding his baby girl so she rested against him, and murmuring softly, almost inaudibly, to her; his voice reverberated in his chest, so she could feel it. This time he spared no glance to anybody else; all of his attention was focused on his baby girl.

Lestrade's description was completely accurate: the head resting on her father's shoulder was covered in wispy black curls that would soon rival Sherlock's, and the slightly bloodshot eyes were the same doe-brown as Molly's. There were tear-tracks on her chubby pink cheeks, but now Alethea seemed perfectly content chewing on the collar of Sherlock's purple shirt.

When the double doors had closed behind them, normal volume commenced; more than several women let out coo's in reaction to baby Alethea, including Gina.

"Oh, Sally, who'd have thought we'd ever see the day Sherlock Holmes would be such a good father, let alone love anybody!" she exclaimed, laughing delightedly back to her desk.

Sally laughed too, and a smile remained on her face when she sat back down to finish out her shift, murmuring, "Miracles _do _happen."

**The End**

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**A/N: **_Hello! I couldn't resist bringing Alethea back, I love her too much! I know Anderson is redeeming himself in the prequel, but this oneshot has been in my head for a long time and I think it's pretty funny. I hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a review!_


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